


Contemplative Snake (Shitpost) {Or in other words the author was jetlagged}

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crowley is a dramatic mess, It's kinda just there, M/M, but that's not the main point, kinda Crowley-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-20 11:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20674556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Crowley may not agree with Hell on most things, but he had to admit that staring off into the dark whilst deep in thought was a pretty good idea.(A snake contemplates by the windowsill of an angel's bookshop.)





	Contemplative Snake (Shitpost) {Or in other words the author was jetlagged}

**Author's Note:**

> This kinda takes place on the second floor of the bookshop.

Crowley quietly got off the bed that he and his angel were sharing, trying not to wake his significant other up. For all he knew, Aziraphale had never, in his 6000 years on Earth had a wink of sleep.

Crowley could barely believe it. Their little scheme worked. Heaven and Hell were left completely oblivious of how he and Zira had survived. He could still remember the look on Gabriel's face. He couldn't believe what an egocentric bastard his little brother had turned into.

_Just shut your stupid mouth and die already. _

If Gabriel knew whom it really was that he'd attempted to execute, would he have been so-- so impetuous? Crowley huffed as he took a seat by the windowsill. _Obviously not. _This was one of those rare nights where there was not a hint of life out on the streets. Anthony could see the Bentley parked by the shop from up there. 

Crowley still had a lingering doubt that Aziraphale was on their side. It had taken so long for the angel to even admit that they were friends, let alone that they even know each other. Ugh, the demon could feel his metaphorical heart sink at the thought. It _was_ to be expected though, choosing Heaven/a board of arsehole-Archangels over a silly demon.

The demon snapped his head towards the direction of the bed when he heard the bedsheets rustling. He let out the breath that he didn't know that he was holding when he realized that the angel was still asleep. 

He refocused his attention to the window. To be honest, he never liked silence. Silence meant that he could think more clearly than usual. And thinking meant remembering. He despised remembering. Remembering his time in Heaven, the War, his Fall, the numerous times that Aziraphale had repudiated him... yeah, it wasn't that fun. 

Whelp, all's well that ends well, right? At least Zira came through in the end--

Suddenly, Crowley's thoughts were interrupted by the lights being switched on. 

"Dear, are you-- are you... brooding?"

The demon hissed and suddenly found himself on the ground as Aziraphale chuckled. 

"Was jusst thinking 'bout something, angel."

Aziraphale grinned, "Thinking? In the dark? How pleasant."

Crowley scrambled to sit up and give the angel the sharpest glare he could muster.

"I'm not pleasant! I'm-- I'm terrible! Uh... vile, wicked, unlikeable..." The demon ticked the words off his fingers.

Aziraphale sighed. "Just come back to bed, dear."

Needless to say, the demon eventually found himself in Aziraphale's arms as he drifted off to sleep.

The end and whatnot.

**Author's Note:**

> And that kind of wraps it up. Thanks for reading, I guess. And now Imma shimmy my way to finish Crazy Little Thing Called Love and my other fics 'cause Lord knows how long Imma stretch them out.


End file.
